


headaches & bad luck

by leere



Series: Tumblr SP Prompts [4]
Category: South Park
Genre: Animal Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 19:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19324564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leere/pseuds/leere
Summary: Kyle hates the part of himself that cares deeply for Cartman.





	headaches & bad luck

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Tumblr on 4/13/19. Title's from Of All the Gin Joints by FOB. Dialogue prompt was "You look really tired" and @ luciinical sent the ask.

Kyle hates the part of himself that cares deeply for Cartman. Because he  _does_ care about him; he can admit that now that he’s matured and all but abandoned his steadfast conviction that he must despise him, though he definitely resents the bastard. Regardless of it all, he knows deep down that even if he’s not fond of him, he’ll always want the best for him, and he’ll always hope to one day see him become someone happier, healthier, and maybe even some semblance of normal, and it pisses him the hell off, because no one deserves to be stuck caring about the well-being and future of someone like Cartman. He supposes someone has to keep an eye on him - he just wishes he didn’t feel bad for him.

But more than anything, it bothers him that Cartman _knows_ he cares about him, and has made a hobby out of exploiting his sympathetic nature and taking advantage of his unending desire to see Cartman evolve into a better person. It upsets him that time and time again, he gives the asshole the benefit of the doubt, and time and time again, Cartman makes him regret it.

So when Cartman sits down for lunch on Monday after having ghosted them all weekend, looking absolutely awful, like he hadn’t slept in a week and had spent that time crying, too, Kyle doesn’t immediately ask what’s up, because he’s sure it’s a ploy for attention and pity, and he won’t give Cartman what he wants this time.

The other boys follow suit; they’re all tired of Cartman’s dramatics, too.

It’s only after Cartman doesn’t prod them to inquire about his state, doesn’t even touch his meal, which is absolutely unheard of, that Kyle gives in and says, “Cartman, is everything okay? You look really tired.”

Craig and Token glare at him, clearly irritated with him for engaging, and Craig goes so far as to gather up his lunch and tug Tweek away by the hand, but Kenny glances over from the nudie mag he’d been looking at with Clyde, peering worriedly at Cartman. Stan’s munching away at a salad - Wendy’s got him eating vegan again, and Stan’s decided salads are his safest option - but he’s watching Cartman, too. It’s some consolation to Kyle that he’s not the only one who does care about Cartman, though Stan and Kenny have frequently criticized him for being too invested.

“Had a bad night,” Cartman says quietly, and his voice is so small and sincere that Kyle’s instantly sympathetic. If this is another scheme, he’ll kick his ass, but by the looks of it, for once in his life, Cartman’s serious in his misery.

“You wanna talk about it, big boy?” Kenny asks him from where he’s sitting to his right. He’s handed Clyde the magazine so he can focus wholeheartedly on Cartman, though Kyle catches the way he’s eyeing Cartman’s untouched chicken nuggets. 

Cartman does, too, apparently. “No,” he replies moodily, before pushing his tray towards Kenny. “You can have them. I’m not hungry.”

Kenny actually hesitates before digging in, apprehensive where he wouldn’t usually be, because of Cartman’s bizarre behavior, but he starts chowing down quickly enough.

No one knows what to say, so they carry on with their lunches, though there’s an air of awkwardness due to Cartman’s mopey presence. He’s horribly quiet; doesn’t even pitch in when Jimmy and Clyde start arguing about early 2000s boy bands, though he’d typically jump right into a conversation like that with some obnoxious spiel about NSYNC’s superiority.

Kyle eats his sandwich solemnly and watches him out of the corner of his eye, even as Stan shows him a series of dumb memes mixed with cute animal videos; the usual lunch procedure. 

By the time the bell rings and everyone stands to go, Cartman’s demeanor hasn’t changed, and he remains seated as the lunch room begins to clear out. Kyle starts to leave with Token to their AP Bio class - but then he stops and looks at Cartman, and something compels him to stay with him. “I’ll catch up with you,” he tells Token, who frowns a little, searching his face briefly, before simply saying, “Okay, dude,” and taking off.

Kyle sits down at the table, straddling the bench. Cartman’s slumped over, head in his hands, but Kyle’s weight makes the seat squeak, and he glances up. “What the hell do you want?” he asks, and his pouty tone is familiar, but so much more legitimately dejected than Kyle’s used to. He’s even got tears in his eyes; real ones, not performative ones.

“What’s going on with you, Cartman?”

The fat boy heaves a sigh, and Kyle sees him fiddling with his hands in his lap, which is something he only ever does when he’s forced to open up and be vulnerable. If this were anyone else, Kyle would put a reassuring hand on his back or arm, something to calm his nerves and show him that he was there for him, but it’s Cartman, and frankly, Kyle’s not willing to let him have that yet. 

Finally, inaudibly, Cartman says, “Ralphie died.”

“Oh,” Kyle says. Ralphie was a sickly stray cat Cartman had been trying to nurse back to health for the last month. He’d named him after the Sopranos character because, according to Cartman, he kind of looked like Joe Pantoliano. That had sparked an argument with Kenny, who thought Pantoliano looked more like a French bulldog than anything (”But he’s Italian!” Cartman had yelled, as if that meant something). Then Kyle had pitched in that it was rude to compare people to pets, which upset Stan, who thought any human should be honored to be likened to an animal. 

Cartman had been excessively lovey with the cat, so Kyle’s not surprised he’s so upset. Part of him is just thankful Cartman’s capable of grieving; it’s proof he’s not soulless, like the other guys try to convince him he is. Proof he’s not a lost cause. 

“I’m sorry, Cartman,” Kyle says gently. The lunch room’s nearly empty, and the few kids left are staring at them as they exit, because their rivalry is decently infamous. The second bell rings; he’s definitely going to be late to class, and somehow, that’s not important to him right now. “I know you really liked that cat.”

Cartman heaves a sigh. “I just - after Mr. Kitty died, I - I missed her so bad, but I didn’t wanna just replace her, you know? It wouldn’t be the same. But when I found Ralphie, I thought maybe it was meant to be or whatever, ‘cause I just  _found_  him, on the street, and I thought Kitty wouldn’t feel betrayed about it ‘cause I was, like, doing an act of - of, like, charity, or whatever, you know? And I thought Ralphie was getting better, he was doing super good and he was more cuddly and, and affectionate, we really became friends- but then I came home from skewl on Friday and he wasn’t moving-” Cartman starts to cry, but he covers his eyes with his hands before Kyle can see. That’s how Kyle knows this is the most genuine sadness he’s seen out of Cartman, possibly in all the time he’s known him; his fake cry is hysterical shrieking paired with crocodile tears, but currently, he’s crying very quietly, sniffling a bit, hiding his face away, and it tugs at Kyle’s heart strings like those ASPCA commercials do.

Abandoning his desire to remain stoic for the sake of his own pride, he puts a hand on Cartman’s back. “Cartman, hey, listen - what if after school, the guys and I take you to the pound to pick out a new cat?”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He’ll have to ask them, but Stan’s always down for an opportunity to be near animals, though it might be hard to get him to leave without taking home every single creature there - and as for Kenny, he’ll tag along as long as Kyle offers to take them out to Taco Bell after.

Cartman rubs at his wet eyes with his sleeves and smiles happily. “I’d - I’d like that, Kahl.”

Then he falls on Kyle and hugs him tight, and to Kyle’s disbelief, he’s not annoyed at being embraced by him like he usually would be. Instead, he smiles and hugs him back, patting him awkwardly on the back once he doesn’t let go after a good thirty seconds. He smells like fruity shampoo and peanut butter, which is better than he usually smells, or maybe Kyle’s just not in the mood to pick out petty things to criticize for once.

Kyle’s typically sort of touch adverse, so if anyone else hugged him like this, he’d definitely be irritated by now - but somehow, Cartman holding onto him like he’s a lifeline just makes his heart swell in a way he’ll lie awake tonight worrying about.


End file.
